


Touch Me

by lillianschild



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillianschild/pseuds/lillianschild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Masks are hard to be stripped alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is another reworking of an old fic of mine while I'm drafting an original multi-chaptered Guy story I have in mind.

I’d always yearned to have someone in my life who really saw me beyond the masks and the walls; someone who could touch me in secret corners nobody had reached before and make me whole.  
  
And you came into my barren world one autumn morning and it suddenly didn’t feel that withered any more. Who would have known this jaded soul, who’d been dispossessed and exiled to the distant corners of his mother’s foreign homeland, could have lost his heart to the principled eighteen-year-old maid of the luminous smile? But I did. And you recognised my coldness and my cynicism for what they were, a mask just like yours. And you touched me in silent places where words only interfere. And we touched each other in sad places where only whispering makes sense, places which held memories that had shaped us and whose resonance haunted us.  
  
Time and choices, hurting and bitterness pulled us apart and eventually brought us together because there’s no one better than us to understand the world is more than just black and white. It’s in the morning when the darkness of the night still clings that I need you to touch me. And the need grows stronger when the hours elapse and I feel the mist start to wrap me, when the sun sets- the sun whose light reminds me of the way your hair shone once as you stood in your room and put your life and your father’s in my hands. It is at twilight that my demons start to haunt me and my soul yearns to be touched.  
  
It is in the evening, when I hide from the world, that I fight against the walls around my heart and the ruthless unquestioning henchman he’s always wanted. It’s when the sun’s no longer there that I yearn for you to touch me the way a child who might never have enough love needs to be touched. For it’s only with you that I feel it’s safe to be the boy she used to love, the son she could be proud of.  
  
In a world of obsequious minions and back-stabbing acquaintances, as my coffers grow fuller and the hunger for power opens its path like a cankering worm, I look across the room and long for your blue eyes to find me. A single look. No words exchanged. Just touch me. Touch me when I’m alone and darkness envelops me and I can’t see, when misunderstanding and others stand in our way and I reach for you through time and space.  
  
Your words, your mere presence in the same room are enough. Touch me. I need to know he hasn’t won yet. Touch me. I need to know I can still feel. Touch me. I need to know it’s still me.  
  
_Touch me --- gently for I am fragile,_  
_\--- firmly for I am strong,_  
_\--- often for I am alone._  
  
_Touch me and make me whole again._  
  
**THE END**  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The excerpt in italics belongs to Suzanne Somers’ poem “Touch Me”. Thanks for the inspiration.


End file.
